Is This My Destiny
by SamLim29
Summary: "A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow." Is that we are? Friends? Yuuki Tenpouin x OC
1. Prologue

The first time I scraped my knee after I fell off my bike, I can still remember the way the blood congealed on my fingers, running down my fingers and dyeing them red. One clench of my fists and the blood hardened instantly. My parents had washed my knee and wrapped it up in bandages, with a promise of as many sweets as I wanted – if only I promised to forget what had happened. I never did.

After age four, when my parents discovered me deliberately poking my finger with a needle to see the blood drip out, they never again let me near any sharp object.

There were times when my insides were full of broken glass, times when I felt an urge to cut myself up, to end all the pain and see what my innards looked like. To prove to myself that I was normal. Though I knew that wouldn't accomplish anything, I still wanted a confirmation to prove that I wasn't evil, that I wasn't a monster.

My mother hugged me, constantly reassured me, saying that I wasn't any of those things. And as much as I would've liked to think that, her words felt strangely empty. I knew she was revolted. My parents both were. How could I miss the glances exchanged when they thought I wasn't looking? Worry, fear, repulsion and concern.

I trembled my way through the days, sleep deprived and constantly ill. My stomach always hurt. Low-grade headaches constantly throbbed a slow tempo. Doctors labelled me a hypochondriac, or worse; still, they never found causes for the symptoms. They suggested shrinks. Perhaps I was one of those children who required a lot of attention.

With each month that passed, the urge to dabble my fingers in warm and sticky blood grew stronger. The kids at school whispered my nicknames: Witch, Freak, and Vampire. Other names I pretended not to hear. Adults ostracized me too. It hurt.

As I got older and stopped trying to bond, I came to the same conclusion as everyone else: I was weird. A freak. A sideshow act.

When my brother, Aidan, was born, I kept a vigil in his room. Intent on making sure that he never had to go through what I went through. I focused on making him feel that he wasn't alone, that I understood just how cruel this world could be. I wouldn't let him suffer like me; I'd protect him no matter what. By the time he was a month old and he didn't show that he suffered from an unhealthy obsession with sharp objects, I retreated.

My parents pretended that it didn't matter. That I purposely picked at my scabs to make the blood ooze out. That I could make blood stop or start flowing again with a click of my fingers. If anything, they acted like I had a talent. A gift, even.

My world was, and is, me and blood. It's a lonely place to live, but I endured. I lived on. I got through each day, hoping and praying, wishing to end all wishes, foolishly thinking that it would get better.

My name is Clarimonde Astra Knight, and I was dead wrong.


	2. Running Away Like A Damsel In Distress

I got up the morning of December twenty-first anticipating a four-day weekend for the Christmas Holiday. I went to a snotty private prep school that took breaks the way people went to the dentist – only when they really, really needed to.

Which was why I had school on the twenty-first, my fourteenth birthday. My parents refused to let me skip. It was a typical, normal day. For me, "normal" meant that my stomach churned so much that I swallowed Tums by the roll, and never went anywhere without Advil.

I coped. I studied. I kept up the façade, but I desperately needed a break. Time to sleep late. Time to head down to the local stables and ride my favourite pony, Sundance. Time to stop faking it and be myself again, even if no one noticed.

I tucked my requisite white cotton blouse into my perfectly pleated tartan skirt, shrugging on the school blazer as an afterthought. I tugged on my thigh-high stockings, pushing our school's dress code to the limits. I didn't mind uniforms – at least I could actually blend in with the crowd when I wore them. I stared at the girl in the mirror. Deathly pale, with dark shadows under her eyes. I wished she could tell me the solutions to my problems.

My phone shrilled, once, twice. I tossed my toothbrush into the sink and tried to make the smile on my face less obvious. My phone _never_ rang. I didn't have a social life or any friends to speak of, and my phone had been silent for as long as I could remember. I didn't even know why I _had_ one in the first place.

"Hello?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then a man spoke, coldly and clearly, enunciating every syllable. "Hello, Clarimonde. I am 'the one being sought'. "

Mom appeared at the top of the stairs before I could reply. "Who is it?" Concern deepened the lines on her once-youthful face, aging her even more.

I shrugged at her, shook my head and mouthed. "The one being sought."

She yanked the phone from my hands and hit the 'END' button, breathing heavily, wild-eyed and pale.

Dad raced up the stairs, clearly just as upset. "Him again?"

Mom's knuckles bled white as she clutched at my phone. She nodded shakily, pulling me into her arms and pressing her cheek into the top of my head.

"What's going on? Who was that guy?" I demanded, letting her hold me as she caught her breath. My dad kept running his fingers through my hair. For the last five years, they hadn't touched me except for accidents or unavoidables. Now, they didn't seem to want to let go.

"It's started," My father announced grimly, pulling away.

"What's started?" I tried again, wriggling out of my mom's grasp. My phone rang again.

"We'll talk more after school. You have a big test today. Music theory, right?" Mom refused to meet my eyes, dumping my phone in the trash.

"MOM! That's my phone!"

"It's old," She replied, by way of explanation.

"Midori…"

"No, no, no, Not yet. Not yet. Just a while more." Mom chanted.

"Mom? Dad?" I whispered, feeling dread well up in the pit of my stomach.

Mom recovered, smoothing back my hair. "After school. Yes, that would be best. David, I have to contact _them_, could you-"

"Of course," Dad promptly put an arm around my shoulders and steered me downstairs as Mom clattered off. "Clarimonde, do you want pancakes?"

"No, no, just a glass of milk will be fine," I answered absently, shaking my head.

_I smell a rat._

"Ri-Ri!" Aidan launched himself at me. As a toddler, he'd given me a nickname that stuck, so even at the tender age of six, I was still his Ri-Ri. "It's your birthday! Thank you! Thank you day!" He danced around the kitchen, a smear of maple syrup staining his flannel pyjamas.

"Shouldn't it be happy birthday?" I laughed, grabbing my cup and pouring cold milk into it. I adored my brother, loved him with the unconditional love that I'd never received, except from him. Aidan wasn't scared of me.

"Happy thank you day!" Aidan crowed, going back to his stack of sticky pancakes.

I chugged down the milk and turned to my Dad. "So? What's wrong? I have the right to know!"

Mom came down the stairs then, and answered for him. "You'll find out after school, Clarimonde."

"Promise?" I eyed them both suspiciously.

"Yes, now you should run, or you'll miss your bus," Mom insisted, waving at the door.

"Do you have everything you need?" Dad asked, pinning up an errant wisp of hair.

"Yup. Okay. Fine." I shrugged my father off and made for the door, feeling like a kid at an adult's-only party, pissed that they wouldn't tell me what was going on.

I heard the bus clank down the road and I ran, my backpack bouncing and my pigtails flying. I reached the stop just as the doors opened; other prep school kids got on in front of me. None of us spoke – or, perhaps, more accurately, they all ignored me.

_Sigh._

I aced my English test. Sketched out a picture of Sundance grazing peacefully in her paddock during Art, listed down rhythms and tempos during my Music Theory exam, and skipped lunch per usual since the cafeteria was a realm I avoided at all costs. When I wanted to evade the rest of humanity, I typically hung out in the out-of-order boys' loo on the second floor. Staying there with a good book was alright, really – the place didn't pong as much as one would expect.

The bus rolled back to my stop at four-thirty. My mind raced. Four whole days off. I wanted to start riding immediately. First order of business: Getting rid of the uniform. Kids poured off the bus behind me, all chatting incessantly. A white Saab full of seniors slowed as they hung out of the windows and flirted with my giggling and blushing bus mates. I was a shadow, creeping silently ahead, invisible, but absently listening as my house came into view.

A black Honda Civic with tinted windows roared around the corner ahead. The driver had to have seen the Saab and the group of teens in the middle of the road. Yet he still sped up, accelerating as he roared towards me. My jaw dropped, along with my backpack. I stood rooted to the spot in fear.

Mom must have been watching for me out the windows. She ran out of the house, yelling my name at the top of her lungs. Her voice broke the trance, and I rolled out of the way into some bushes which scraped at my skin and ripped at my uniform. I barely noticed the pain – I was lucky to still be alive. The kids behind me weren't as fortunate.

I heard the impact of metal against metal. Glass shattering and breaking. Pleas for help. Someone screamed. I think it was me.

The accident lasted only seconds, but it felt like an eternity to me. The Honda backed up and sped off, leaving the driver of the Saab hanging out over the side of the door. Crumpled metal littered the road like scattered tissue paper. Limbs, twisted an unnatural angles, all soaked in blood. Moans and groans from some victims meant they were still alive. I moved to the carnage to help when the pain doubled me over. It felt like I was being ripped in half by giants. A hysterical scream bubbled up inside of me, ripping its way free of my throat. Tears streaked down my cheeks, the terror inside of me building to a crescendo. The pool of blood in front of me bubbled and gurgled. The terrified, pleading screams from the students intensified when _more_ blood spurted out of their wounds, twisting and writhing, as sharp as a double-edged sword…

Mom lifted me, dragging me further and further away. She was barking out frantic orders into a headpiece, panic evident in her every word. Through my blurred vision, I swear I saw a _gun _in her hands. Then another wave of pain hit me, and I screamed again.

_What's going on?_

Then Dad was there too, lifting me into the backseat of the family sedan. I clutched at my head, eyes tightly shut to block out the pain and the screams, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Go, _GO_! Don't stop! We're done here! Aidan and I will meet you!" mom slammed the car door shut and stepped back as the car screeched off. "Be brave, Clarimonde! I love you! Don't you forget that! Yuuki will-"

_Who's Yuuki?_

Dad hit the gas. He kept soothing me as he drove. Prayers. Assurances. Nonsense words. But I was in so much pain I could barely hear him.

The further we drove from the house and from the wreck, the less tortured I felt. My breath came back; the pain receded like the tide going out. Finally I was able to sit up and wipe my eyes on my blood-stained uniform.

"Better?" Dad asked, passing back a tissue.

I accepted it gratefully, giving myself a moment to find my voice before replying.

"What's going on?" I was surprised at how steady my voice was. It was as if I'd never seen the accident happen.

"They've found us, that's what's going on. We've run out of time. Midori should've explained sooner. But she didn't want you to end up like… Never mind. The point is, she wanted you to stay safe and happy. To be a kid for as long as possible."

Dad wasn't making any sense.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded when he stopped to catch his breath. I'd _never _been a kid, never had a happy, normal life of one.

"You're not human. Well, not completely human, anyway. You're special. It's just very complicated."

_Huh? _I gulped down my fear. "Dad. Are you okay?"

"You have to go to Tokyo, Clarimonde! You have to find Eden and the Code:Breakers! They can help you do this thing!"

"_What_ thing? And what the hell is a Code-thingamajig?" I demanded.

Dad growled, frustrated. "I don't _know_! Your mother was supposed to explain it to you. I've never seen this before! All those years she knew the pain was real and never told me why until Thanksgiving when the calls started-"

I raised my voice to stop him. "Mom's not _here!_ _You_ are! What's Eden?! And if I'm not human, then what _am _I?!"

We made eye contact in the rear-view mirror. "You are a Code:Breaker, with special powers of your own."

Clearly, I'd fallen asleep on this bus and this was a terribly odd nightmare. "Of course."

"I'm not insane, young lady," Dad gave me his best stern voice and face.

We drove into the Best Denki parking lot.

"Can you walk?"

I nodded shakily, wobbling out of the car. Dad threw an arm around my shoulder and half-carried, half-hauled me through the long aisles of bulk goods. He kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he expected to be followed.

As we pushed through to the back exit, a brisk wind chaffed my cheeks and ruffled my silvery blonde hair. "Dad?"

A taxi was parked right outside the door. A scruffy skater type not much older than me got out and started transferring luggage, without a word, from Dad's hands into the boot.

Dad's eyes were those of prey. "I have to get back to your brother and mother. Don't come home. We won't be there. You will _never _be alone, Clarimonde. _Never._ We will love you always, but from here on out, you will have to carve out your future on your own."

"What's going on? This sounds like a goodbye. Are you going? Why?" Tears threatened to choke off my voice.

Dad pointed at the cabdriver. "This is Aki. He's going to drive you to the bus station. You need to get to Tokyo."

"Where to in Tokyo?"

"The Shibuya Mansion. The Code:Breakers are all there. They can help you. But you have to be very careful as well. Stay away from blood until you get to Tokyo, alright? Promise me, Clarimonde, promise me!" His hands bruised my upper arms. I'd never seen my father this intense before. It scared me.

"P-Promise." I stuttered.

Nothing made sense anymore.

"They've arrived." Aki's scratchy smoker's voice broke the spell of my father's golden gaze.

"You have to go now. There are letters in your coat. Remember to give them all out."

I glanced into the back of the taxi and, blinking, finally recognized my duffle bag and camping backpack. "But I want to stay with you and mom and Aidan…"

"You can't. Trust me on this one, please? You have to go." Dad kissed my forehead and pressed me into the back of the taxi. "Be brave. Find a friend, find comrades whom you trust, and always believe in them. And tell Yuuki nothing more than kissing until you get married, okay?"

"Wait, _what_? Who is this 'Yuuki' person you and Mom keep harping on about?!" I cried, but he'd already shut the door and was sprinting back into the store. "Dad? Daddy!" I yelled.

"You'd best be quiet and lie down back there, or they'll see you," Aki commented, saying nothing about my burning face.

"Who?"

"For a lack of a better explanation, the bad guys."

"Bad guys?"

"Want to know what that makes you?"

"Bat-shit crazy?"

"Nope, one of the good ones." The taxi rumbled out of the parking lot and I rested my head in my hands. This _had_ to be a dream. Right?


	3. I STILL Don't Know What I Am!

"Hey, kid, we're here." Aki slowed and braked the taxi.

"Here?" I asked, not recognizing this part of town.

"The bus station. They'll probably be watching the airports. You should ditch the pigtails or they'll spot you." He watched as I undid my pigtails with shaky fingers, tying my pair into two loose, if not messy plaits. My mother had tied them up for me, like she had done every morning for as long as I could remember. I wished I could have held on to one final piece of home, but she would have never forgiven me if I had died due to my own foolishness. "There's money in the backpack, plus your ticket."

"Ticket?" I barely mimicked his words correctly. Try as I might, I couldn't quite wrap my mind around this.

"To wherever you're going." He unloaded stuff as I crawled out from the taxi.

"Where?" I asked. Had Dad said Tokyo?

"I don't know. Don't want to know. Plausible deniability. I'm only doing a favour for a friend."

"Huh?"

"All I know is that you work for the government. You catch the bad guys, so to speak. Other than that, you need someone better informed."

_I work for the government? Is he a loon?_

"There're letters from your Mom. Keep your head down, kid." He slammed the trunk down and levelled a stare at me. "Get inside the station and get on the bus. Don't let your guard down, got it?" Then he revved the engine and sped away, leaving me in the parking lot.

My arms screamed at the weight of my duffel and backpack, so I stopped every few steps to catch my breath on the way into the terminal. I scanned the empty lobby and picked the far corner to camp in. I kept my back to the wall. _Whom am I watching out for? Will I know them? Who is after me? And why?_

I rifled through the coat's pockets. It was a heavy winter coat I'd never seen before. If Mom hadn't painstakingly sewn my name onto the front pocket, I would have never known that it was mine.

One of the letters I found in my search of the pockets was written by Mom in her lyrical script. I loved her writing. So fluid, so graceful. A pang of longing struck me as I began to read.

_December Twenty-First_

_Your Fourteenth Birthday_

_Dearest Clarimonde,_

_As hard as it is for me to write this letter, I know that it is harder for you to hold it, to read it. You must be scared. I'm sorry. For all these years, I've tried so hard to protect you from Eden, and now I wonder if I didn't make your destiny more difficult, if my need to hang on to you as long as possible has placed you in great peril. There was never a good time. I'd hoped to travel with you to Tokyo, but we ran out of time. I lost your sister, Bernadette, to Eden. I didn't want to lose you too. But 'The one being sought' found us. It was only a matter of time before he tried to get his hands on you. And I couldn't let that happen. So I chose the lesser of two evils, and placed you under Eden's protection. I used to work for them too, you know, as an agent of Eden. I protected Code 06, the weakest of the Code:Breakers. My darling girl, your time has come. You are a Code:Breaker._

_You are special, Clarimonde. You have always known this. And so have I. I knew the moment your cry sounded at midnight this day fourteen years ago that you were remarkable, with powers that could save people the law could not. For that is what a Code:Breaker does. You protect the innocent, and destroy those whom the law cannot._

_Learn everything you can from the Code:Breakers. Though they may not seem it, or look it, they know a lot more than you do. Be kind to yourself. Listen to your instincts. Know that we love you always. We, too, have to flee to safety. Under no circumstances come home. It is empty._

_You are going to the Shibuya Mansion in Tokyo. Ride the 7 a.m. bus to the interchange. Watch out for Yuuki, Code:Breaker 03. I have asked Eden to send him to pick you up. You'll know him when you see him. Beware of the Re-Codes, guardians of 'The One Being Sought'. I have packed enclosed extra money in case you run into trouble or get hungry on the trip. I packed everything I think you'll want. Pease forgive me if I have overlooked a beloved token of your childhood. I did my best. Your father sends his love. Aidan will miss you more than the rest of us, I fear._

_Clarimonde, you're going to experience a lot of pain and suffering from here on out. Remember who you are! Find a goal… a dream… and don't stop trying until it comes true. Find friends whom you can trust and believe in. Depend on them, and look out for each other. Always live up to your name. For you are Clarimonde Astra Knight, a protector._

_Your mother in this life,_

_Mom_

I hugged my bags to me and read the letter over and over again. I memorized it, casting furtive glances at anyone who entered the dingy space. They all appeared normal and completely uninterested in me. Twelve hours to kill. When my stomach growled, I checked out the vending machines.

I plugged a dollar bill in and pressed the button for knockoff Hostess cupcakes. I ripped the package open and tried to hum a few bars of "Happy Birthday", but I couldn't get past the first notes before my throat clogged up with tears and I was unable to breathe. _Useless._

"Happy super fourteenth birthday, Clarimonde," I said, biting into the stale and waxy cupcake. I chewed and swallowed by rote, leaning back in the hard plastic chair and letting my head roll back. I studied the water stains on the ceiling above me. They were the patina and sepia tones of ancient continental maps.

The bus station smelled of sweaty dollar bills and despair. It reeked of loneliness and solitary travel. Hyped on adrenaline and not just a little fear, I resisted tumbling toward the edge of sleep.

I kept swivelling my head, thinking that if I could see the threat coming, I could do something brave and heroic, like get the hell out of the way. There were so few people in the station that I began to relax. Just a little.

Finally, the sun lit the edge of the horizon. The minutes ticked by until finally they called our bus number. I stashed my duffle and backpack under the bus, inhaling exhaust as it idled. Ten other people crowded around, like a swarm of gnats, trying to be the first on. I hung back, praying that they wouldn't talk to me. I didn't see any bad guys or speeding Hondas.

I didn't want to get onto the bus at all; I wasn't much of a traveller. My parents tried a family vacation once, to Singapore, and it ended badly.

I chose a seat near the back next to the window, hoping to get some sun and hopefully see Tokyo as it approached.

I slept fitfully as the watery sun drifted behind some storm clouds. The lights of the interstate flashed in bursts as we passed truck stops and rest areas. The inside of the bus was a dingier, more claustrophobic dark than that of any room I'd ever slept in. I kept my knees tucked up tight against the seat in front of me so my feet stayed off the floor.

Bits of conversation drifted through the darkened interior. "A job… Family… Never been to Tokyo… Shopping… University…" They all had a reason, even if it wasn't a good one, to be heading to Tokyo. And what was mine?_ Running away. From who? Or what?_

We stopped at a couple of diners for pee breaks and to grab a quick snacks. I kept an eye out for anyone following me; my father's ominous instructions to be careful echoed in my head.

We drove into Tokyo a full day after I'd gotten on the bus. My school uniform was wrinkled and smudged with God knows what, and I was boiling in the coat I was wearing to cover up the blood stains. My legs hurt from sitting down all the time. I wanted a shower. Real sleep. Someone to tell me this wasn't a mistake. _Ha-ha! Anyone?_

We climbed down the bus as fat drops of rain fell from the pewter grey sky. They chilled me to the bone, sticking to my eyelashes and making me shiver. I collected my bags without a word; hefting them, I wondered how they had managed to gain so much weight riding under the bus.

I was supposed to meet Yuuki Tenpouin here. I'd know him when I saw him, apparently. I didn't see anyone I recognized. No one surveyed the bus station like they were looking for a fourteen year old girl they'd never met. Apparently no one expected me.

I was deliberating between waiting here and hailing a taxi, when a girl with coral pink hair blocked my path.

"Who are you?" I asked, ignoring every cell in my body which screamed at me to run.

"I'm Hiyori. And I'm here to capture you."

Very carefully, I set my bags down on the pavement. Then I turned to face her.

"No."

I didn't know who she was, only that she had to be bad news, one of the re-codes that Mom had warned me about. I had to fight.

"Then I'll just have to force you!" Letting out a high-pitched giggle, she cupped her hand around her mouth and blew. Small balloons appeared and zoomed towards me.

I rolled out of the way; one caught me on the arm and I hissed. A wave of pain rippled through me, forcing the breath from my lungs. I collapsed onto the ground, winded.

Plink, plunk.

I watched as my blood dyed the ground red. It hurt.

"Mommy? That big sister's hurt. Shouldn't we help her?" A little voice, a girl's voice whispered, sounding very far away.

"Hush, Suki. We have to run, now."

My eyes flew up to meet my assailant's. She grinned, and I knew what her next move was going to be.

_No._

"Run!" I yelled to the little girl, to anyone who was foolish enough to stay and watch. "RUN OR YOU'LL DIE!"

There was an awful, high-pitched keening that ripped away at my heart strings. It was the scream of a child.

"_NO!"_

There was an explosion; the force of it sent me flying like a rag doll several feet back.

Groggy from the fall, I tried to stand, to move, but my vision blurred and I could taste blood in my mouth. A warm hand pushed me back down to the ground.

"It's okay, Neko-chan. You don't have to fight anymore."

Then the world around me faded to black.


	4. Shibuya Mansion

I dreamed in detail so real that I smelled, tasted, and touched. Bright azure eyes and platinum blonde ringlets filled my vision. I realised that I was staring at an almost mirror image of myself. Same delicate elfin features, same button nose, same wide and expressive eyes and a rosebud mouth.

"I love you, you know? And Yuuki too. Don't you forget that. Ever. Because I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

Who… What…?

I gasped and opened my eyes. I stared up at a cheery yellow ceiling, peeling in some places, my breath ragged as if I'd been sprinting from the devil himself. The pain was a constant throb in my head, arm and ribs. I didn't move; it would only make things worse.

"Oh. You're awake." A woman with wavy blue hair and eyes was smearing something that stung onto my arm.

"Who are you?" I mumbled, burying my face deeper into the warmth next to me. I thought I heard a "Neko-chan, that tickles", so I stopped, blinking away my sleepiness. She glared at me. Or was she glaring at the bed? I couldn't tell…

"I am Prince. Now shut up and sleep or your wound will never heal."

I nodded sleepily, nuzzling deeper, inhaling the scent of warm milk and chamomile, falling back into that black oblivion.

"That's so not fair! Why does Yuuki of all people get a cute girl?!"

"Shush, Toki-kun, you'll wake them up!"

"Mm, I didn't think Yuuki had it in him."

'"And so, with a hunger she could no longer contain, the girl reached out for him, and it was like-"'

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR ANYMORE!"

I jumped and awoke with a start. My face was buried in the neck of a boy, no older than sixteen and no younger than twelve. He was wearing a white shirt and a hoodie, with well-worn denim jeans. He was snoozing away without a care in the world, blissfully oblivious to the fact that my chest was pressed up against his.

I reddened, and wriggled away, trying to get the over-sized white T-shirt I was in to cover more skin. (It only came up to my fingertips.) My eyes fell upon his face, and I couldn't help but think that I knew him. I'd seen him before, though I didn't know where.

"Neko-chan?"

I glanced down at my companion, who had woken up and was staring at me questioningly.

"What…? Oh, I'm not…"

I trailed off as a single memory came to mind: Warmth on my cool skin, the wind rushing through my hair, and the gentle sway that could only mean he was carrying me.

"You're Yuuki Tenpouin!" I exclaimed.

He nodded, and I reddened like a tomato.

_This _was the guy whom I could only do kissing with? He was hot, but I doubted that he would even know what kissing meant, not even if it danced naked around him.

"You saved me from that girl!" Realization dawned in my eyes.

He nodded again.

"What about that other one? The little girl?" I demanded, my mind trying to sort out the memories that were beginning to return to me in bits and pieces.

He looked visibly uncomfortable, but before he could reply, the door burst open, and Prince strode in, a vein throbbing in her temple.

"OI! YUUKI! Didn't I tell you to sleep in your own bed?!"

Before he could reply, she'd smashed her forehead against his. I winced. That had to have hurt. I wanted to intervene, but I didn't want to be on the receiving end of Prince's anger.

"Sakurakouji!" A purple haired girl with similarly coloured eyes scuttled in. "Help her get dressed! No, Toki, for the tenth time, you can't come in – you'll see her at dinner in ten minutes! And Yuuki, get out of Clarimonde's room!"

Before he could even blink or protest, Prince had picked Yuuki up by the scruff of his neck and was out the door in two shakes of a lamb's tail. The door slammed shut with a bang.

Sakurakouji tried for a smile. "Hello. I'm Sakurakouji Sakura. It's nice to meet you, Clarimonde-san!"

I smiled back hesitantly at her. "You can call me Clary. It's fine."

She obliged. "Do you need any help dressing, Clary-chan?"

I shook my head. "I'll be fine. I think."

Ignoring at how my arm and sides protested, I walked over to my bags, which had been propped up on a chair, and pawed through the clothes inside. I didn't recognize any of it – all rich fabrics like silk, satin or suede, with a hint of cotton and denim occasionally popping up. They were all brand new and girly, with hoops and petticoats and flounces. I didn't know how or when, but someday, I was going to kill Mom for this.

In the end, I settled on a pair of denim shorts and a pink "Nyanmaru" T-shirt, with a pair of white tennis shoes. Not the most stylish outfit. At 140cm, I was unusually tiny for my age – unlike the rest of my tall and gangly family. I could have passed for an elf. Or a third-grader with boobs. For a minute, I considered changing, until I caught myself thinking of impressing Yuuki and shuddered.

Great. A crush on a kid. If that wasn't the epitome of self-inflicted pain, then I didn't know what was.

It took me fifteen minutes to get dressed, but Sakurakouji was very patient, never once seeming annoyed by my slow progress.

I stared blankly at my feet. I would have to bend down to tie them up. But my sides hurt. Without another word, Sakurakouji knelt and did up my laces for me. Gratitude surged up deep in my heart.

"Thank you… Sakura-chan."

She smiled brightly at me. "No problem! Your pigtails look a little messy though, would you like me to retie them for you?"

I shook my head, taking my hair out of the two Nyanmaru hair bobbles and slipping them into my pocket. They dug into my hip a little, but they were my precious things. I didn't know who had given them to me, but I knew that I would cry if I lost them.

I followed Sakurakouji out my room and down a dimly lit hall, mildewed in some places, broken in others, into a dining room, which was warm and brightly lit. The scents of cinnamon, vanilla, and fresh-baked bread made my stomach growl.

"Did anyone save food for us?" Sakurakouji poked her head into the kitchen as I hovered uncertainly by the doorframe.

Prince nodded, shooed me to a seat at an old mahogany farm table and placed a thick slab of bread in front of me. Yuuki pounced on me as soon as he saw me.

"Nyanmaru!"

"Yuuki, get off her, she needs to eat." Prince briskly started buttering the bread.

"I can do it," I reached for the knife, just as Yuuki rolled off me.

Prince nodded, unoffended. "Yeah. You really frightened m – Yuuki when you passed out on us. Bled all over him, too."

"Sorry," I murmured, ducking my head sheepishly. I felt like the apology was expected.

Sakura spooned thick brown Nikujaga into a crockery bowl, and set it down in front of me with a bowl of her own.

I shovelled stew into my mouth, chasing it down with a bite of the best tasting bread I'd ever had in my life. I nearly finished lapping up the last of the broth when I realized that the trio was gawking at me like they'd never seen anyone eat. I was mortified. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been that hungry, nor that manner less.

I stopped abruptly and inhaled. "Sorry."

"No, no, I'm glad you liked it!" Sakurakouji was tickled pink. She'd obviously made it, and was pleased to know that I'd enjoyed it so much.

"You've had a long journey, one that'll be longer yet. You'll need energy." Prince recovered. She didn't offer me an explanation.

I couldn't hold back my questions anymore. "What am I doing here? What's happening to me? Why did my parents toss me on a cab and send me across the country to some rundown mansion in the middle of Tokyo and when I get here I find out that I'm some sort of hot commodity and then you –" I paused long enough to point at Prince – "Knock people out with your forehead and then she - " – I pointed at Sakurakouji, who was trying not to listen to our conversation – "Acts like I'm here for a vacation and then he - " – I pointed at Yuuki "Is some sort of Nyanmaru lover who has a fetish of creeping into beds. We're not friends."


	5. Not Quite The Explanation I Wanted

I continued, unable to stave off the questions I had.

"Where am I? Where are my parents and when do I get to see them? And what the hell is a code-thingamajig? I don't want to be one! I want to go home! And if you don't let me, I'll use my powers and make everyone explode like toads!" Deflated, I flopped back into my chair, exhausted, and not just a little embarrassed.

Before Prince could open her mouth to retort (or worse, knock me out), a man in a Nyanmaru costume popped in.

"Well! I see our guest has arrived in one piece! Sakura, bring some tea and cookies into the parlour. It's going to be a long night. Come along, Clarimonde," He had a surprisingly firm grip on my arm as he led me into the living room.

He positioned me by the fire and tucked a blanket around my shoulders. Yuuki, who was clearly a touchy-feely kind of person, curled up next to me on my left, while Prince flopped down rather gracelessly beside me on my right as Mr Nyanmaru paced up and down, muttering to himself. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Er… Clarimonde. What did your parents tell you so far? Anything about Eden or Code:Breakers?"

I screwed up my face, trying to remember. "Um… Yes. Well, sort of. My Dad called me one. He said I had "special powers". And Mom said that Eden would help me. They'd keep me safe from… "The One Being Sought". I protect those the law can't. And… She said I had a sister. Bernadette. But that's impossible! Aidan's my only sibling! I've never heard of a Bernadette before!"

Yuuki's face twisted up in what could only be described as pain.

"Hm. And did you never wonder why you had a fascination with blood?" I thought Mr Nyanmaru shot him a warning look.

Sakurakouji handed me a mug. "Blood? Is that your power?"

I scooted deeper into the couch and quilt. "I wouldn't call it a power. Everyone thinks I'm a freak."

I thought I detected a hint of sympathy when he next spoke. "You've had it rough. Most Code:Breakers do when they're young. But has your mother really not said anything?"

"_Nothing,"_ I replied, trying not to let my irritation show.

"I see. Then I'll tell you: She worked for Eden. She used to protect Yuuki when he was Code 06. That's how she knew him. And how he knew you."

'"Knew me'?" I echoed, looking over at the boy next to me. He wouldn't meet my eyes. "You mean we've met before? Other than this?"

Realizing that he'd said too much, Mr Nyanmaru hastily went on, as Prince rolled her eyes.

"Ah, yes. Back to Code:Breakers and powers. Your power is –"

Then the door to the sitting room burst open, revealing a blonde and a brunette.

"Yo!" The blonde, who was loud and exuberant, crowed. "Miss me?"

The brunette rubbed his temples. "It must have been peaceful here, for once."

Mr. Nyanmaru raised a hand in greeting. "Clarimonde, this is Ogami and Toki. Both of them are Code:Breakers too!"

"Oh, hey, it's the cute girl!" Toki realized.

I smiled wanly. "Hello, Toki-san, Ogami-san. I'm Clarimonde. Nice to meet you."

Ogami gave me a smile (which was so obviously fake), but I was glad to see that Toki's smile looked more genuine. The two boys flung themselves down onto the other couches, gratefully accepting the cups of tea Sakura handed out.

"Why are they so beat up?" I demanded, horrified by the many cuts and bruises I could see through the layers of their clothing.

"Am I going to look like that when I become a Code:Breaker?" I couldn't fully shake off the panic that was threatening to wash over me. Pain came with it, threatening to pull me under like a tidal wave. My arms hurt. My legs felt swollen.

Mr. Nyanmaru took one look at my face and ordered the two boys to leave.

"Eh? But we just-"

"TOKI, REI, GET OUT!" Prince screamed, but it was too late.

Blood spurted out of one of the cuts on Toki's face. He screamed. I screamed. Sakura screamed. The place was in chaos.

"MY BEAUTIFUL FACE-"

"Prince!" Mr Nyanmaru cried out urgently.

Prince got the hint and herded the two boys out. I sat on the couch, breathing heavily, my eyes round and wild. I was terrified. This was the first time since the accident that my powers had gone out of control.

"Warm." I jumped as Yuuki rested his head on my lap. He'd been so quiet, I'd forgotten he was still there.

I glanced down at Yuuki, who blinked up at me.

"I-I'm sorry, what?"

"You're warm. Fourth's warm too. And Sixth. We're all still warm and alive, so it's okay." His matter-of-fact words calmed me down slightly.

"Hm… Your power is more dangerous than I'd thought." Mr Nyanmaru mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"That's Clary-chan's power?" Sakura gasped, looking incredulously at me.

"Yes. She is one of those who can manipulate blood." Mr Nyanmaru nodded sagely.

_Wonderful._

"What does that mean?" I wanted to know. I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts, knowing that I might not like the answer.

"It means that 'The One Being Sought' will stop at nothing to get his hands on you."

"_Me? _Why?"

"Clarimonde, what is found in every human?"

"Um…" I hesitated, even though I already knew the answer. "Blood?"

"Exactly. Blood. Clarimonde, if you can manipulate blood, make it do your bidding, you could control every single human, even the President."

I gulped. "How? I don't get it."

"Living things, except plants, have blood in them. It's what makes them live. Say, for example, you told blood to come to you. The blood in the bodies of the life forms around you would literally come to you. You will be unstoppable once you learn to control your powers."

My heart sank. "So you're saying that unless I learn to do this Code thingamajig, I'll die."

"Oh, no. Not you. Only the ones around you will die." His tone was light, as if he and I were discussing the weather. "Like the teenagers in that accident."

My jaw dropped. "You know about that?"

"Your mother called. 'The One Being Sought' probably did it. The car crash wasn't an accident. The best way to kill you is to expose you to large amounts of blood before you're in control of your powers."

Did those teenagers die because of me? "What happens now?"_ Do I want to know?_

"There are things you must know. Methods of coping that will ease the pain. You felt the pain, right? The pain you felt was from the blood cells. When you came of age, the window opened fully – at that moment, the blood in the people around you felt you, and you could feel them. Before, the window was only a small crack, which only the blood in your own body could feel."

"I don't get it." I answered, frustrated and angry.

"You will in time." Mr Nyanmaru patted my shoulder comfortingly. "We'll explain more tomorrow during your training with Prince."

"Training?"

"You should get some rest. Let your guard down tomorrow and you'll die. Yuuki, please take Clarimonde to her room."

"Training?" I asked again, but no one answered me. I couldn't quite get past 'you'll die'.


	6. Training With Prince

"You again?" I asked, coming face to face with the girl I'd seen the previous night.

Only this time, her platinum hair had been hacked off into a short, ragged pixie cut that ended at her jawline. The last time I'd seen her, her hair had been long and smooth, part of it tied up into two twin ponytails, while the rest of it flowed down her back like a waterfall.

She looked upset, her face creased into a frown.

"Yuuki still blames himself. You have to tell him that it's not his fault. Promise me you will!"

"H-How can I? I don't even know your name!" I stammered.

"It doesn't matter! He knows who I am! And so do you! Please, I'm begging you, tell him!" Her hands grabbed my wrists.

I stepped back, uncomfortable with the close proximity.

"I don't think…"

"I have to go now. But you have to tell him!" Her eyes were wild as she made her final plea.

Then I jerked awake, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat.

"It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about," I told myself, shrugging off my unease and changing into my old outfit from yesterday.

It wasn't dirty, merely a little crumpled from having spent the night on the floor. I headed down to the dining room, yawning. I was too tired to tie back my hair, so I left it down.

"Morning," I greeted Sakura and Prince, the only two still in the kitchen.

"Good morning!" Sakura turned to smile cheerfully at me from the sink, where she was scrubbing at a food-encrusted frying pan.

"Morning," Prince grunted, sipping at a steaming cup of coffee.

Two onigiri had been set out on a plate.

_That's it?_ I thought a little grouchily. _Shouldn't my first breakfast here be a little more spectacular?_

"There's orange juice in the fridge if you'd like," Sakura called, gesturing at a cabinet, where I assumed the cups were kept in.

"OK," I replied, selecting a nondescript white mug, walking over to the fridge and filling it with juice.

"Don't eat too much," Prince warned, setting her mug in the sink. "We're training right after breakfast."

"Already?" I asked through a mouthful of onigiri. "Can't I have a one day vacation or something?"

"You IDIOT!" Prince whacked me on the head.

"OW!"

"Of course you have to! Unless you'd rather die at the hands of The One Being Sought!"

_Hm. Dying or training? Tough choice…_

"Training it is," I decided, after pretending to consider my answer.

I stuffed the last bite of onigiri into my mouth and chased it down with juice.

"I'm ready," I declared.

Prince nodded, and led me down to what I assumed was the basement. She waved at me to sit down, and I hastily planted my butt on the floor.

"You have to practice consciously thinking of weapons: Swords, knives, whatever. Visualization will be your biggest tool for coping. If you believe you have a weapon in your hands, then you will. I don't suppose you exercise?"

Blushing, I shook my head no. Exercise was not my cup of tea. I preferred a good book and a hot cup of tea.

"Do I really need a weapon? Can't I just manipulate the blood like I always do when I get agitated?"

Prince fixed me with a hard stare that made me feel a little uneasy.

"So you've noticed. Well, that's impossible. If I were to attack you right now, here, would you really be able to defend yourself? No. And now that you've come of age, you'll be particularly sensitive to blood. Not just your own. Everyone's. And if you can't control your powers, you'll kill everyone around you."

I gulped. I'd heard all of this last night, but it didn't change the fact that I was scared witless. I didn't have a single clue as to how to control my powers.

"Your mother told me that you did ballet and riding, right?" Prince went on, oblivious to my worry.

"E-Eh? I guess… But they were mostly hobbies," I nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"It's good. It means that your legs are strong. Stronger than your scrawny upper body. We'll have to work on that later. But for now…" She shoved a piece of paper and a pencil into my face.

It was crumpled and yellowed. I took it, unsure of what I should do next.

"Sketch out a pair of boots. Design them however you'd like. Don't show me. Just tell me when you're done." Having said her fill, Prince pulled up a rickety old chair from a corner and flopped down gracelessly into it.

For a moment, all was quiet as I designed my boots.

Then Toki and Yuuki came crashing in, arguing at the top of their lungs. Without even batting an eyelid, Prince grabbed the two of them and smashed their foreheads together.

"OUCH! What the hell, Prince?!" Toki rubbed at the red spot on his head, and glared at Prince.

"Ow… That hurt…"

"Can't you two buffoons see that Clary's training?!" Prince growled, arms akimbo.

"But she's drawing!" Toki protested.

"That _is_ her training, you idiot!" Prince turned back to me. "Clary, are you done?"

I nodded assent.

She inhaled, and her next words were laced with worry.

"Okay. Okay. Clary. This next step will hurt a lot. Do you still want to continue?"

Fear and apprehension welled up inside of me, but I forced a cheerful smile.

"Let's do this!"

_Be brave, Clarimonde._

"Right. Since you two are here, you might as well make yourselves useful and help out. Yuuki – straddle her. Toki, you hold her hand."

I blanched. Wait, what? This was beginning to sound like some bad porn movie!

Prince leaned over and pinched me in the ribs. "Get your mind out of the gutter, man! It's just to stop you from moving around! Or would you rather I had Heike do it?!"

I stared blankly at her.

"Who's Heike?"

"He's - . Oh. Right. We'll introduce you to everyone later."

Yuuki twitched and pouted at the mention of Heike. It seemed like he didn't like Heike very much. Then, almost abruptly, he walked over to me and plonked his butt down on the area just below my stomach. I let out a sharp squeal of surprise, and prayed that my face hadn't lit up like a Christmas tree.

Toki burst my bubble with his next sentence. "Haha! Oh, hey, Clary-chan's face looks like a tomato!"

Prince ignored him, and went on. "Toki, her hand!"

I yanked it away before he could touch it. "No way! I'm not giving birth here! I'll be fine!"

_Whatever Prince wanted to do couldn't possibly hurt that bad_, I reflected.

Prince nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Then let's start."

Was it just me or did she look paler than normal?

She took out a small pocket knife and flicked out the blade.

"What are you doing?" My gaze cut from Yuuki's face, white with horror, to the blade held in her hand. "What's that for? What are you going to - ?"

"Clarimonde, I want you to look at me," Prince commanded, so sharply that my eyes promptly met his. "Good. That's good. Eyes up here, Clary – keep looking at me – "

Prince brought the blade to my ankles and deftly made a crosscut over them, one after then other.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, flopping and wriggling like a fish out of water as fresh blood oozed out of my legs. Yuuki's face was pained, but he kept me held in place. Toki was staring at Prince as though she'd grown a second head.

"What the hell did you-?"

Prince dove for my forgotten drawing, and waved it around in front of my face.

"Do it now! Visualize the boots!"

_Okay. The boots. C'mon Clary. Boots. Visualize them. You can do it! Remember what you drew! _

I saw the boots, with three-inch heels. Saw the delicate circle of blood around my thighs.

_You will harden and become my weapon!_

The blood responded, wrapping around my legs, stopping just below my knees. A thin band of blood wound itself around both my thighs.

"I did it!" I gasped, smiling triumphantly at Prince, who nodded approvingly as she cleaned her bloody knife.

"Yuuki, you can get off Clary now."

Sighing, Yuuki rolled off me, and I slowly sat up, surveying my new boots proudly. The pain had completely vanished, and I no longer felt like dying. Toki had taken it upon himself to poke curiously at my boots until Prince head-butted him.

"Stop it! Don't distract her! The blood will –"

Pain rippled through my legs again as the blood coating my legs turned back into liquid again, and I found myself floundering in a pool of my own blood.

"- Collapse." Prince glared at Toki, as if she was debating the pros and cons of beating him up.

"Sorry, Clary-chan," Toki shot me a sheepish smile.

I shook my head. "It's fine."

With an effort, I managed to get the blood to listen to me and the boots reappeared. I stood shakily.

"Are we… Um… Going to fight now?" I asked.

Prince didn't move, but she nodded.

"Let's see what you've got."

An hour later, she had her answer.

"Not very much, huh?"

"Ow," I groaned, momentarily incapable of normal speech.

She extended a hand and helped me up from the concrete floor she'd knocked me down on – about fifty times. Toki and Yuuki had left around the tenth time I'd gotten my ass handed to me on a silver platter. And I'd never thought I'd say this, but my blood was being a total b with an itch. It would always collapse at the most crucial moments. Some weapon.

"I hate you," I groaned, rubbing a spot on my thigh that was going to have a wicked bruise tomorrow.

"You'd hate me more if I held back."

"Yeah, that's true," I agreed, staggering along as Prince headed up the stairs.

"You actually did okay."

"What? Really? Are you out of your mind? I just got pawned, like, fifty times."

"You're still alive." From the way she said it, it sounded like not many people walked away alive from a fight with her.

Great. That cheered me up a whole bunch.

Sakura jumped on me as soon as I walked into the kitchen. Her yes were shining like stars.

"What is it?" I asked warily.

I was almost afraid to hear her answer.

"We're going to the festival!" She crowed.

My jaw dropped.

"_What the hell?!"_


	7. What Clary Found

"We're _what_?" I stared at Sakura in horror. "Please tell me you're joking!"

She looked confused. "Why would I joke about something like this? _Everyone's_ going to the festival tonight!"

"Even Mr. Nyanmaru?" I demanded, my mind whirling like a washing machine.

"Who's…? OH! You mean President Shibuya! Yes! In fact, it was his idea!" Sakura took my hand and led me up the stairs.

Prince waved at us, sending me off to my doom from the bottom of the stairs with a casual, "Have fun!"

_Thanks a lot, Prince. What an awesome mentor you are._

Sakura hovered outside of my room. "You should go shower. I'll come by later to help you with your yukata."

I hesitated, gathering up clean clothes and a stack of fashion magazines Mom had packed for me. "I don't have one."

Sakura's answering smile was dazzling. "I know. That's why I bought one for you."

My jaw dropped.

_No way._

"Are you serious? Do I need to, like, pay you back or something?" I gabbled on, shocked that she had gone to this extent.

"No, no, don't worry. My family bought me a lot of them, and I just picked out some that I thought would fit you." She shrugged her slim shoulders. "It's not a big deal. So don't worry about it!" She smiled at me again, and I nearly started crying.

_Why are you being so nice?_

"The bathroom's over there," Sakura pointed down the hall.

I nodded, and padded down the hallway, longing for a good soak in the claw-foot tub, the likes of which I'd only ever seen in movies. I needed some R and R after Prince had beat me black and blue, and hot water seemed like one efficient way of getting some.

I sighed, opening drawers in the ancient vanity, hoping to spot bath salts or bubble bath. No luck.

A brisk knock at the door startled me. "Clary? It's Prince."

I opened the door. "Um… It's okay for me to bathe here… Right?"

"Yeah." Prince gave me a weird look. "Why wouldn't it be? You're one of us now." She held out a basket full of bottles. "Bath salts and all that stuff. Go crazy."

Guilt flooded me. "Do you need me for anything?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Why, I didn't know you were that eager to continue training, Clarimonde."

I quickly closed the door.

I could hear her chuckle as she headed back down.

Soon the bathroom filled with scents. I stripped my clothes off and dipped a toe in, then a foot and a leg, until I was all but submerged up to my chin. Bubbles tickled my nose like butterflies.

I ran my hands over my body, trying to imagine what it would be like to be the recipient of quick, careless caresses. Aidan was the only one in the family who ever touched me without hesitation.

_Does he think I disappeared? What has Aidan been told? That I don't love him anymore? Where is my family?_

I grabbed the top magazines from the pile. I'd lugged twenty pounds of magazines across the country, but I knew Mom thought she packed what I wanted most in the world. She always thought I wanted to be a magazine editor or writer. She never understood that in those glossy pages I saw the material world of normalcy. It didn't matter how many issues I read, but that elusive world of everyone else's never looked like mine.

I'd never had a friend. Not since I'd made the mistake of telling Yui the truth after I'd made a week-old scab of hers bleed during a playdate. I told her that blood loved me. She must have relayed this to her mother, because pretty soon Yui was always busy. Finally, she told me she didn't want me to kill her.

I tossed magazine after magazine at the wall. None of them brought the distraction they used to. I closed my eyes and a montage of my new friends flashed beneath them. Yuuki, Sakura, President Shibuya, Toki, Prince, Ogami… I remembered the feeling of Yuuki carrying me. Safe and dangerous at the same time, he made me want to trust him with every dark secret, but also to run away as fast as I could.

My thoughts wandered back to that girl. The one in my dreams, who always appeared without fail, _every single time_. Was she related to me? Was she dead? Alive? The One Being Sought wanted me. I could die.

Frustrated, I dunked my head underwater and held my breath.

And held it.

And kept holding it until I was past the point of bursting. Then I pushed to the surface, gasping great gulps of air into my burning lungs.

The tub suddenly felt like a coffin. I grabbed a bar of soap and a razor and shaved my legs for the first time in weeks I scrubbed my skin with a washcloth until it was red and sensitive. I used a handful of shampoo on my hair. My long gorgeous hair that my mother refused to let me cut, that took forever to wash and even longer to dry. I lifted the plug in the tub so that I could rinse off in clean water.

It took nearly a year to get all the soap out of my hair. Suddenly my eyes snapped open. I had an idea. I needed scissors. Sharp scissors.

There was no one to tell me no. No worlds to collapse if I did this. No one was going to care. I rubbed the towel on the huge antique mirror so I could see myself. My hair hit the curve of my back, right above my tailbone. I dressed in a camisole and denim shorts.

I dumped my old clothes on my bed and rummaged around in the bureau drawers. I found a set of skeleton keys. Most of the doors in the long hallways of the house were locked. The temptation was irresistible. My mission for scissors shifted as curiosity got the better of me. I felt a bit like a pirate searching for treasure. Behind one of these doors was the tool I needed. I wandered down the hall, trying keys in the locks until one worked.

The door creaked open. A musty cloud of cold air hit my face and shivers broke down my body. Spider webs hung like tinsel from the ceiling, and a thick coat of dust made my nose twitch. I tried the light switch. A lamp emitted a soft glow, one made even dimmer by the dense layer of dust on the shade.

Heavy masculine chairs flanked a fireplace, and easels of stretched canvas with half-finished landscapes on them faced the windows. But the crown jewel of the room as an enormous, intricate desk. The top was bare, but when I opened drawers I found bits and pieces of treasures.

Old photographs of a long-haired Prince in a leather trench coat, standing beside two other men: One with dusky skin and long black hair, another with messy black hair and a scar on his face. A picture of a couple: A man with a pageboy hat and a sweater vest had his arm around a woman in a short, tight dress. She was the spitting image of Sakura. A tiny baby, swaddled in a blanket, rested in this woman's arms. A picture of the girl. My double. Her hair was still long and flowing, and Yuuki was fixing something in her hair, and she was laughing hysterically, a pale pink blush coating her delicate face. A note in spidery script was on the back of it: _Me and Yuuki! He gave me Nyanmaru clips! _I picked that up, and shoved it into my pocket.

A dried rose crumbled when I picked it up. Pens and pots of ink hid behind carved doors with knobs made of onyx and ivory.

Bundles of letters flanked the desk. Most were yellowed and fragile with age, tied together with grosgrain ribbons, but others were clearly more recent. A cutesy pink Nyanmaru diary, with gold edging and a ribbon tie, took pride of place. It was worn and mangled, the oil from many fingers leaving streaks on the pages, marks where the ink had run, and smudges on the cover.

I picked up the journal, which was surprisingly heavy. I had to use both hands to hold it. I undid the ribbon and began flipping through the pages.

_Dear diary,_

_It's my 9__th__ birthday. At home, Mommy would make me a cake, and we'd ice it together. Then, when Daddy came home, we'd go out for dinner together. When Clair came along, she'd smile, and clap her hands for me all throughout the day. Here at this facility, I'm lucky to even get five minutes off training time as a special treat. Thank goodness I have Yu here with me. He's supposed to be my mentor, but he's only one year older than me! But still. He gave me a slice of cake from this Nyanmaru café somewhere in Japan. I do wish I could have gone with him! But I'm not allowed out until the end of the month, and that's when I'll be an official Code:Breaker!_

_Dear diary, _

_It's official! I'm now Code:Breaker 06! Haha! Even though I went to that facility for children with special abilities to protect Clair, this super hero thing is the best! I get a bow made of blood (though it's my own), and I get to save people with Yu! My first mission was to take out this illegal human trafficker, and Yuuki and I did it together! Team mates! I was expecting having to kill him, but surprisingly, it was Yu who did it. I wonder why. Maybe I'll ask him later…_

_Dear diary,_

_I've just met the other Code:Breakers today. Heike is WEIRD. That's all I can say. Prince is badass and cool! And her hair is super pretty! It's this really cool shade of blue, unlike my platinum hair. Toki is a friggin' pervert. He tried to grope me when we first met, but I kicked him. In the groin. Oops. Hitomi is the strongest. His eyes are kind, but sad. He has seen many deaths in his lifetime. Eccentric, but gentle, that is Hitomi, Code:Breaker 01, the strongest of us all. _

I found letters from my mother chronicling events in my life and asking President Shibuya what to tell me. I questioned whether she'd followed any of his advice, since I'd known nothing of Code:Breakers before coming here.

I opened the bottom drawer and found shears that were perfect for cutting cardboard. They'd do for hair. I grabbed the journal and the scissors. I didn't lock the door behind me, certain that no one would notice.

Back in my room, I positioned the mirrors so that I could see the back of my head. I inhaled an ample breath, but before I could begin hacking, a hand caught my wrist.

"Yuuki?"


End file.
